


Sink or Swim

by saiditallbefore



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Adventure, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, F/F, Golden Age (Narnia), Pirates, Post-At World's End, Sailing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26179135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiditallbefore/pseuds/saiditallbefore
Summary: After being pulled overboard in a storm and nearly drowned, Queen Susan of Narnia is rescued by Captain Elizabeth Swann.
Relationships: Susan Pevensie/Elizabeth Swann
Comments: 13
Kudos: 67
Collections: Alternate Universe Exchange 2020





	Sink or Swim

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silver_Queen_DoS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Queen_DoS/gifts).



Susan allowed herself just a moment of resentment that the _Splendor Hyaline_ was still being repaired after Lucy and Peter’s skirmish with pirates last autumn. The _Melodious Eventide_ was nowhere near as well-outfitted as the royal galleon; it had only one gun and only the barest of luxuries. Still, the monarchs of Narnia lived simple lives compared to those from other lands, and Susan put the ill feelings aside quickly. 

Really, the ship was the least of her worries; she was off to the Lone Islands to mediate a dispute between the Governor and the Council. Despite being a Narnian territory, the islands were largely independent, and it was rare that they looked to Narnia for help. When she and her siblings had visited a few years ago as part of their royal tour, the islanders had been mostly indifferent; the White Witch had had little influence there. Now that her presence had been requested, she hoped to make a good impression.

The ship lurched, sending the letter she’d been re-reading flying across the cabin. Susan stood, bracing herself against the wall of the ship, opened the door, and stepped out onto the deck.

A gale had blown up while Susan had been deep in concentration. The sailors scampered and scurried all across the deck, trying to lash everything down appropriately, and Captain Kyriakos— a Minotaur— held fast to the wheel.

“Get below decks, your Majesty!” first mate Dakon— a Red Dwarf— called to her.

Susan wanted to protest that she could help, but the truth was that she knew frightfully little about sailing. She would only be getting in the way.

She scrambled toward the hatch, intending to follow Dakon’s instructions and get below. But before she reached it, a wave crashed over the _Melodious Eventide_ , sweeping her off the deck. Susan screamed, but it was drowned out by the sound of the storm. She grabbed for the rigging, for the railing, for _anything_ , but she couldn’t get a grip. 

Several of the sailors called to her as she was swept overboard, but Susan couldn’t make out what they said. The waves tossed her, pulling her every which way until she no longer knew which way was up. Her lungs burning from lack of air, Susan fought to find her way to the surface. 

She had barely taken in a fresh lungful of air before she was dragged back down again. She kicked off her shoes. They were light— like all of the clothing she’d brought, they’d been made for Narnian summers— but the momentum propelled her back up to the surface. She thrashed about, and her hand landed on a floating piece of debris. Susan clung to it desperately, allowing it to keep her above the waves, even as the storm tossed her about.

Susan wasn’t sure how long the storm went on. It could have been minutes, or it could have been an eternity. 

Finally, the wind and the rain died down. For the first time since she’d been tossed overboard, Susan was able to take stock of her surroundings. The debris she’d been clinging to for so long was a piece of a ship’s mast, and she hoped that the crew of the ship it had belonged to were safe and alive.

On the horizon, she spied a ship. It was sailing in her direction, and Susan briefly hoped that it was the _Melodious Eventide_ , having survived the storm to come back and search for her. But the _Eventide_ had two masts, not three, its sails were a dusky blue, not white. 

“Help,” Susan tried to yell, but her voice was nearly gone. She tried to swallow, found that her mouth was bone-dry, and tried again. “ _Help_!”

She continued to cry out, waving her hands over her head, hoping desperately that _someone_ on the ship would see or hear her. 

Luck was with her— the ship began, slowly, to turn toward her. It pulled alongside her, and the crew hauled her aboard. As they hurried to wrap her in a blanket and fetch her something to drink, Susan couldn’t help but notice something distinctly odd about the crew: they were all human. 

This wasn’t a Narnian ship, then.

One of the sailors— a dark-skinned woman, with hair bound into tight braids— placed a mug of tea in her hand. 

“Thank you,” Susan said, accepting it. It was delightfully warm, after the time she’d spent clinging to life in the cold sea. “Please, can you tell me where this ship is bound for?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Susan saw a pair of sailors exchange a look. She took a long sip of her tea, and tried to look as innocuous as possible. It wasn’t difficult; she was alone, unarmed, shoeless, and soaking wet. 

“I think you’ll probably be wanting to talk to Captain Swann,” the woman said. She helped Susan stand, and led her to the captain’s quarters.

As the door swung open, Susan had the wild, fleeting hope that the captain would truly be a Swan, and this would be a Narnian vessel after all. No such luck; the captain was a human woman: a small woman, but one with a commanding presence. She wore trousers tucked into sturdy boots, with a sword on each hip, and a three-cornered hat perched jauntily on her head. Her hair was loose, spilling around her shoulders, and her skin was freckled and sun-kissed.

“Thank you, Lucia,” she said, dismissing the woman. “Elizabeth Swann, captain of the _Wandering Star_.” 

“Susan of Narnia.” She took Captain Swann’s outstretched hand and shook it.

“Narnia?” Captain Swann asked, furrowing her brow. “I’ve never heard of it.”

Never _heard_ of it? The implications of such a thing filled Susan with fear like she hadn’t known in years. It would be like not having heard of Archenland, or Calormen! 

“You must have traveled from very far, indeed, Captain Swann,” she said faintly.

“Further than we intended,” Captain Swann said, with a rueful twist to her lips. “And please, call me Elizabeth. We don’t stand on ceremony on this ship.”

“Of course.” 

Elizabeth peered at Susan, as if she were trying to solve a puzzle. Then she seemed to come to some conclusion. 

“You’ll have to stay on the ship, of course,” Elizabeth said. “We can find some clothes for you. Shoes, too.”

“I was bound for Narrowhaven, on Doorne. Do you know it?” Susan asked. It seemed unlikely, from someone who had never even heard of _Narnia_ , but she remembered Narrowhaven as having a bustling port. 

Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m afraid not. But we can put you ashore at our next port.”

It was more kindness to a stranger than some would show, and it was likely the best deal that Susan was going to get— at least, under the circumstances. Perhaps things would be different if she had her money purse with her, or proof of her identity, but there was no use wishing.

“Of course,” she said. “Thank you for your generosity.”

* * *

Susan stood on deck, watching the crew of the _Wandering Star_. About half of the crew were women, though she supposed that was to be expected with women as both the captain and first mate. Fundamentally, they seemed no different than any of the other crews she’d met while on sea voyages. They climbed the rigging and hauled the lines, just like all of the other crews she’d seen. 

And in the heart of it all, like the Great River running through the heart of Narnia, was Captain Elizabeth Swann.

She seemed to feel Susan’s eyes on her, and she turned, met Susan’s gaze, and winked. Susan raised an eyebrow, mock-stern, in the manner she often used with her siblings. Elizabeth threw her head back laughing.

Susan turned away, smiling. She leaned against the railing, letting the sea spray hit her face as she searched the horizon in vain for any sight of land. There was nothing; only the deep blue sea in all directions, stretching out to touch the wide-open sky.

By her— very amateurish— reckoning, they were still sailing in a southerly direction. Assuming she hadn’t somehow been swept out of the Bight of Calormen, they were still roughly headed in the direction of the Lone Islands. 

Or Calormen. 

Susan fervently hoped they would bypass Calormen; relations with the Tisroc had always been complicated, at best.

Making matters worse, she and the _Melodious Eventide_ would be expected in Narrowhaven in a matter of days. If it arrived without her, or if neither of them ever arrived at all, there would be trouble. Perhaps the Lone Islanders would think she’d ignored their petition, or perhaps they’d think she’d been lost at sea, and send a message to her royal siblings.

The thought of someone mistakenly telling Peter, Edmund, and Lucy that she had died was awful. Susan hoped, desperately, for almost any outcome but that.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, lost in her own thoughts, before Elizabeth interrupted her.

“What is it like? Narnia, I mean?” Elizabeth’s eyes were alight with curiosity. In the face of her questions, Susan’s earlier worries began to melt away.

“It’s— it’s beautiful,” Susan said. As always, words fell short whenever she tried to describe Narnia to outsiders. “And it’s _alive_. There are green, rolling hills, and the Great River runs through the whole country. But that’s not— Narnia is the _people_. It’s the Talking Animals, and the naiads and the dryads, and the fauns and the satyrs. It’s— it’s everything,” she finished weakly.

“It sounds wonderful,” Elizabeth said.

“It is,” Susan said. “But what about you? Tell me about where you’re from.”

“Port Royal,” Elizabeth said. “On the island of Jamaica. It wasn’t as magical as your Narnia sounds, but it was home.” She leaned against the railing, looking out across the water. “But the _Star_ has been my home for some time now. I don’t think I _could_ go back, even if I wanted to.”

“I know what you mean,” Susan murmured. There had been a time, however faint it now was in her memory, before she and her siblings had been crowned the Kings and Queens of Narnia. Before they had ever belonged to Narnia at all. “It’s as if this is what you were made for, and nothing else would ever fit quite as well.”

“Exactly!” Elizabeth exclaimed, pointing straight at Susan. “I’m so glad you understand.”

She grinned at Susan. Her smile was infectious, and Susan found herself smiling back. They remained like that for some time, standing side-by-side, watching the sea together, before Elizabeth spoke again.

“So, Susan,” she said. “What awaits you in— Narrowhaven, was it?”

“Business,” Susan said. She tried to quash down the guilt— it wasn’t _really_ a lie, and she was still entirely vulnerable, with little idea of who Elizabeth was. But her own sense of honesty prompted her to add, “Business with the governor.”

Elizabeth scrutinized her. “Sounds important.”

“More than you know,” Susan said.

That night, Susan was shown to a berth below decks, with the crew. It wasn’t the most comfortable accommodations she’d ever had, but neither was it the least. Besides, after the excitement and terror of the storm, she would have slept soundly anywhere.

The next day, Susan was doing her best to keep out of the crew’s way, not wanting to get underfoot. She’d perched up in a spot near the bow, and had already spotted a dolphin leaping ahead of the ship. Just as she’d begun to ponder whether there were any talking Dolphins, or if they were all simply dolphins, she spotted a merperson. 

The merperson looked to be a young girl, younger than Lucy if she were a human, with a green tailfin and dark hair that flowed around her, and she was close enough that Susan could see her sharp teeth when she smiled. 

The mergirl noticed Susan, and waved. Susan waved back.

“What are you—” Elizabeth began, but broke off with a gasp when she saw the mergirl. “Is that a _mermaid_?”

Susan nodded.

Elizabeth was quiet for a moment. “When I was a child, I heard stories about mermaids. Even then, I thought they were just stories that sailors had made up. I’ve seen so many things… nothing should surprise me anymore.” She hadn’t taken her eyes off of the mergirl, and her eyes were wide with wonderment.

“Sometimes it’s nice to be surprised,” Susan said. 

At this, Elizabeth turned to Susan. “It is, isn’t it?” 

It felt as though something delicate was hanging in the air, and any word, any movement, would break it. Susan couldn’t decide whether she wanted to reach for Elizabeth or to run away, but before she could make up her mind, the moment was shattered.

“Sail ho!”

Sure enough, when Susan looked toward the stern, there was a ship approaching. Elizabeth dashed across the ship, climbing up the rigging in one smooth motion. 

“What colors are they flying?” Elizabeth asked. It was an obvious question, and yet— the _Wandering Star_ did not seem to be flying any colors at all. 

There were mutters from the crew. Lucia finally spoke up. “No one knows, captain.”

Susan pushed away her growing suspicions aside and stepped forward, holding her hand out for a spyglass. “May I look?”

Lucia dropped the spyglass into her hand. Susan adjusted it, peering at the ship. 

“It’s not Narnian,” she said. It was too plain for that; even the simplest of Narnian ships were works of art, with elaborately carved prows and colorful sails. “I don’t think it’s from Calormen or Archenland, either.” Their ships were not as well known to her as Narnia’s, but they marked themselves with flags or with symbols, and this ship had none of them. “It could come from the Seven Isles or one of the Lone Islands.” She collapsed the spyglass.

“You think they’re friendly?” Elizabeth asked.

“It’s hard to say. My brother and sister encountered pirates in these waters last year.” 

Someone laughed. Elizabeth smiled.

“Pirates, we can handle.”

Susan had little doubt the about that: the ship was outfitted with a number of guns, and every crew member walked about armed. They were clearly prepared for trouble of one sort or another.

“Stay on course,” Elizabeth commanded the crew. “But keep an eye on that ship!”

* * *

The other ship caught up to them late the next day. It was a little smaller than the _Wandering Star_ , but equally well-armed. The name was written across its side: _The Coral Scream_.

“Steady on,” Elizabeth called encouragingly, as the crew watched it uneasily. It was as if they were all holding their breaths, waiting for something to happen.

Then, the _Coral Scream_ fired off a shot. It passed harmlessly over the _Wandering Star_ ’s bow, landing in the water with a splash. 

It was like a spell had been broken.

“All hands to stations!” Elizabeth commanded. “And _haul colors_!” Her orders were echoed across the ship.

Susan felt as if she were the only person on deck left standing still. All around her, the crew were running to and fro, and she knew that somewhere below decks, the cannons were being loaded. 

Someone had produced a flag and was hoisting it up the mast. As it rose higher, it came into full view: a skull and crossbones, on a field of black.

A pirate flag.

“Do you know how to use this?” Susan startled at Elizabeth’s voice; in all the chaos, she hadn’t heard the other woman behind her. 

“Well, do you?” Elizabeth asked again, after Susan failed to answer. She was holding a knife out to Susan, hilt-first.

“You’re a _pirate_.” Despite herself, Susan couldn’t keep the disappointment out of her voice. 

“Never said I wasn’t.” Elizabeth’s smile was sharp as a knife. “Now, do you want the knife or not?”

Exasperated, Susan took the knife from Elizabeth. It was rather closer to a dagger— not so fine as Lucy’s, of course, but it would do the trick if necessary. She stuck it in her belt. 

“Thank you,” she said, stiffly. 

Elizabeth tipped her hat at Susan, then disappeared into the crush of people on deck.

There was a loud boom, as one of the _Wandering Star_ ’s guns fired, and the whole ship rocked. Susan braced herself against the nearest piece of railing. She held on so tightly that her knuckles turned white, her heart quailing; she hardly wanted to go overboard again.

Susan had never been in a battle at sea before, and she never wanted to repeated the experience. The _Wandering Star_ and the _Coral Scream_ fired back and forth at each other with great, booming, bone-rattling cannon shots.

After an indeterminate amount of time, the gunfire stopped. 

“They’re boarding!” someone called.

It was true: the _Scream_ ’s crew was scrambling over to the _Star_ , knives and swords in hand. Elizabeth and her crew met them head-on, in a clash of yelling and clanging metal.

Susan, feeling entirely too exposed, backed up slowly until she reached the cabin that held the captain’s quarters. Her back to the wall and her eyes on the skirmish in front of her, she felt around until she reached the door handle. She opened it, slipped inside, and slammed the door behind her.

With any luck, she’d be safe in here.

She collapsed in a spindly wooden chair, and leaned her elbows on the table, disrupting a few charts from their place. Pirate charts. Because this was a pirate ship, after all. 

Susan groaned, burying her head in her hands. She’d never been in such a mess before. 

The door to the cabin rattled, then it opened. Two pirates— from the _Coral Scream_ , by their clothing— stepped in. They stopped short, pointing their swords at her. Susan raised her hands in the air, trying to look unthreatening. She had no wish to fight off two pirates with only a dagger, if she could help it.

“Who’re you?” the one on the left asked.

“I’m no one,” Susan said. “Just a— an acquaintance of the captain.”

The pirate on the right squinted at her. “Hey, I think she’s one of those queens of Narnia.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Left said. “You’ve never seen royalty in your life.”

“Have too!” Right declared. “There’s that portrait of ‘em on Terebinthia.”

Left squinted at Susan a bit, too. “You know, I think you’re right.”

They both lunged toward Susan. She desperately tried to get away, but there was nowhere to go— the cabin was small, and the pirates were standing between her and the door. Besides, where was there to go? On deck, there were only more pirates. 

Right held a sword at her throat. He and Left marched her onto the deck, and one of them whistled. The fights on the deck abruptly stopped, as everyone’s attention was caught by their little drama.

“Surrender, or she gets it!” The sword was cold against Susan’s throat. 

It should have been harder to spot Elizabeth. She was small, easily dwarfed by at least half of the people here, and the decks were crowded. Instead, Susan’s eyes were drawn straight to her: her hat missing, her sword brandished, her lips pulled back in a snarl.

“Let her go,” Elizabeth commanded. “She’s of no consequence to you.”

Left and Right both cackled. The sword slipped away from Susan’s neck, just a little, and she slipped her hands toward her belt.

“D’you know who this is?” Right asked. “This here’s one of them queens of Narnia!”

“In that case,” Elizabeth said dryly, “Wouldn’t her kingdom pay a great deal more if you return her _alive_?”

Everyone contemplated this for a moment.

If Susan were the sort of person who rolled her eyes, she would have chosen that moment to do so. Instead, she gripped the knife in her belt tightly, hoping that no one noticed what she was doing. With the sword at her throat, there was no way for her to move without being hurt— or worse.

Then, as both Left and Right yelled threats and obscenities at Elizabeth, the sword moved away from Susan’s throat, just a little more.

Susan disliked violence. She was an excellent shot, but she preferred inanimate targets to living ones. Still, not even Narnia was completely peaceful, and its kings and queens were well-prepared.

Susan swung around, and slashed at the hand holding the sword that had been at her throat. It was an inelegant move, but she drew blood, and the pirate dropped the sword. Susan kicked it away.

“I thought you was supposed to be _gentle_?” he howled.

Susan, her knife still pointed at him, didn’t dignify that with a response.

Lucia was at her side in a moment, and quickly disarmed the other pirate. The battle seemed to be over in minutes after that— perhaps the _Wandering Star_ ’s crew had already been on the cusp of winning. 

Elizabeth had the crew of the _Coral Scream_ tied up, then sent her crew to the other ship to take what they liked. Then she joined Susan on one of the upper decks, leaning her forearms against the railings.

Elizabeth gave Susan a long, evaluating look. Susan didn’t know what she expected to see— she was still dressed in the crews’ castoffs, and looked much like any other woman on the ship. But she did have a good idea of what Elizabeth was going to ask.

“Queen of Narnia?” Elizabeth asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Never said I wasn’t,” Susan said. 

Elizabeth laughed. “Alright, well-played.” She looked out at the water, and Susan watched her, hoping to get an idea of what Elizabeth was thinking. For a pirate captain, Elizabeth was usually rather transparent with her emotions. But this time, Susan had little idea of what Elizabeth might be thinking— or of what she might be planning to do next.

“What business did you really have in Narrowhaven?” Elizabeth finally asked.

“I was called to settle a dispute between the Governor and the Council of the Lone Islands.” Susan met Elizabeth’s eyes— a golden-brown in the afternoon sun. “I told the truth.” 

“Not the whole of it,” Elizabeth snapped.

“I hardly think you’re in a position to judge me about that.” Susan clamped her mouth shut; there was no need to make her situation worse by losing her temper.

She looked away from Elizabeth, toward the prow of the boat, still pointed in a southerly direction, and she made a decision. “If you take me to Narrowhaven on Doorn in a timely manner, I will make sure that you are rewarded handsomely.” The logistics of that reward might be a bit difficult to sort out, as the royal treasury was back in Cair Paravel, but Susan was certain she would be able to sort _something_ out. 

“Assuming I believe you— and I’m not saying I do— how are you proposing that I get you there? I’ve told you, neither Narnia nor the Lone Islands are on my maps.”

“I’m not a sailor—” Elizabeth laughed a bit at this, and Susan smiled, but continued. “But unless I drifted _much_ further than I’m guessing, we’re still well within the Bight of Calormen. If we continue south, we should reach either the Lone Islands or Calormen.”

Elizabeth looked to the horizon, then to her crewmembers, returning from the _Coral Storm_. “I suppose we’ll have to make port eventually. South is as good of a direction as any other.”

* * *

Susan sat on deck, turning the knife Elizabeth had given her over and over in her hands. 

“Can’t sleep?” Elizabeth asked. She flopped down gracelessly next to Susan.

“No,” Susan answered. 

The silence, which had been so companionable between them just that morning, grew awkward. Susan cast about for something to say, but Elizabeth beat her to it.

“The stars here are different from the ones I’m used to,” she said. “Makes it harder to navigate.”

“Here, let me show you.” Susan moved closer to Elizabeth. She gently took Elizabeth’s arm and began to trace out constellations. The Leopard, the Ship, the Anvil— they were all old, familiar friends to Susan. “I only know the Narnian names for them. I think even Archenland calls them different names, and they’re more like Narnia than any other country I know of.”

Elizabeth was quiet, still looking up at the stars. Susan wished the light was better, so she could read the expression on the other woman’s face.

“You must be from very far away,” Susan said.

Elizabeth ran her hand through her hair, tousling it gently. “I don’t think I even know how far, anymore.” There was a hint of melancholy in her voice, and that, more than anything, was what made Susan reach out. 

She pressed one of Elizabeth’s hands between hers. “I don’t know where you’re from. But if there’s anything I can do to help you get back home…”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m not sure that there’s anything you can do. But thank you.” 

Susan’s doubts must have been obvious, because Elizabeth added, “The whole time I was growing up, I would look out at the ocean, and I would wish for that— that freedom. Seeing new places, new people, going wherever I want… I told you before, this ship is my home.”

Susan looked back up at the stars, picking out the familiar shape of the Leopard. Elizabeth’s hand was still in hers. 

Elizabeth was braver than she gave herself credit for. Leaving a whole life behind— even if it _was_ to become a pirate— and then being willing to leave it behind again, because of chance and circumstance? Susan couldn’t imagine it.

Later that night, when Susan lay in her berth— in the First Mate’s cabin, because no one wanted to put a queen belowdecks— she thought again about Elizabeth’s hand. It had fit perfectly into Susan’s own. Dryads and naiads had naturally soft hands, as befit their nature, and the human gentlewomen Susan had met had worked to keep their hands soft. But Elizabeth’s hand was calloused from work, just as Susan’s were from archery.

When she finally fell asleep, it was to thoughts of Elizabeth’s hand in hers.

The _Wandering Star_ sailed for two more days before they caught sight of land. When the cry of “Land, ho!” came, it was little more than a smudge, only just visible on the horizon.

Susan once again stood at the prow. She’d torn her gaze away from the land they were slowly approaching, and watched as Elizabeth adjusted the ship’s heading. Finally, Elizabeth joined her, leaning back against the railing.

“If the wind holds, we should be there within a day,” she said.

“Thank you,” Susan said.

Elizabeth hummed in acknowledgment. “You can thank me with that reward you were promising.” Her lips quirked.

Susan smiled back at her. “I’m sure I can.”

They stood in companionable silence for a minute or two. Then Elizabeth said, “I suppose there’s no point in trying to convince you to stay.”

Susan laughed despite herself. “My duty is with Narnia— and so is my heart. I don’t think I could bring myself to leave.”

“It was worth a try,” Elizabeth said ruefully.

“Besides,” Susan added, “There’s a fair chance that my siblings have already heard that I’m missing, and one of them is bound to do something rash.”

“Well, we can’t do anything _rash_ , now, can we?” Elizabeth’s tone was teasing— almost fond.

As the day passed, and the land on the horizon grew ever closer, Susan and Elizabeth continued on more or less like this. Elizabeth would break away for a while to survey her ship, and to check their heading, and then she would rejoin Susan, regaling her with stories of adventures on the open sea. 

It was like they were trying to pack an entire acquaintanceship into the last few hours they had together. Susan knew she ought not to dwell on it— Elizabeth was a pirate captain, after all, and Susan was still indebted to her— but Elizabeth had been kind to her. More than kind; she’d been an unexpected kindred spirit. 

And yet, their parting was inevitable.

* * *

The harbor at Narrowhaven was a hub for sailors from all over, including both the great kingdoms and the minor ones. It was not unusual to see a Calormene ship docked next to one from the Seven Isles. 

As always, the Narnian ships were the easiest to identify. When the _Wandering Star_ sailed into Narrowhaven, there was more than one Narnian ship already in port— hardly unusual, for a Narnian territory. But Susan was only interested in one of them.

There, on the far side of the harbor, was the _Melodious Eventide_. She looked a little weather-beaten, but she was obviously still seaworthy. Susan couldn’t help but be relieved. If her ship was here, then the crew must have made it out alright.

The _Wandering Star_ had hardly docked when an official boarded, asking for paperwork.

There were a few nervous glances among the crew, and Susan suspected that, due to their normally less-than-legal activities, the ship did not have whatever paperwork they were being asked for.

“They’re with me,” Susan said, summoning up her most queenly voice.

The harbor official did not look impressed. Susan hardly blamed him; she cut a striking figure in these clothes, but it was hardly a regal one.

“Who might you be?” he asked.

Susan drew herself up to her full height. “Queen Susan of Narnia. I have business with the Governor and the Council of these islands.”

“You’re not—” the official began.

“The captain and crew of the _Melodious Eventide_ can vouch for me.” She nodded to the ship across the harbor, and watched as the official and several other dock workers scrambled to fetch someone from the _Eventide_.

Someone finally returned, bringing along Kyriakos, captain of the _Melodious Eventide_. The minotaur, who towered head-and-shoulders above the rest of the crowd gathering on the dock, stopped short when he saw Susan.

“Your majesty,” he intoned, bowing deeply. “We thought you’d been lost.”

“Not lost,” Susan said. “Only a little misplaced.” 

She turned and looked at Elizabeth. She wanted to reach out to her, to take her hands, but she wasn’t sure it would be welcome with all the eyes on them. “I haven’t forgotten our deal,” she said. “I’ll be back shortly.”

Elizabeth tipped her hat to Susan. “As you say, your majesty.”

The rest of the day passed in a whirl of activity. Susan had to send official messages to the Governor, to the Council of the Lone Islands, and to her siblings back in Cair Paravel, letting them all know that she was alive and well. She had to make sure that her papers were all in order, for when she was finally able to meet with the Governor and Council the following day. And finally, she had to purchase the most accurate set of charts and maps that she could find— a difficult task, when her crew was loath to let her out of their sight again.

It was near sunset when she was able to return to the _Wandering Star_. The sky was tinged with orange; it reflected across the water, giving the impression that the entire world was on fire.

When Susan boarded the ship, Elizabeth was waiting for her.

“These are for you.” Susan held the maps and charts out to Elizabeth.

“Not much of a reward,” Elizabeth said, but she still took the maps and charts, flipping through them with an interest she couldn’t quite disguise.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be able to find me. If you want to renegotiate.” Susan allowed herself to smile.

Elizabeth glanced at the papers in her hands, then back at Susan. Her whole face crinkled up in a smile. “I’m sure I will.”

Susan wanted to linger, but there was no use putting it off any longer. “I’ll be expected back at my ship soon.”

Elizabeth took Susan’s hand in hers. It felt exactly as Susan remembered.

“So this is it,” Elizabeth said. She pressed a searing kiss to the back of Susan’s hand, bowing with a gallant flourish. “Farewell.” 

As Elizabeth released Susan’s hand, Susan reached out, tugging Elizabeth close to her. She ran one of her hands up through Elizabeth’s wind-blown hair, and held it at the nape of Elizabeth’s neck. With one last searching glance into Elizabeth’s golden-brown eyes, Susan kissed her.

It felt like a promise. It felt like a goodbye.

It was perfect— and yet, it somehow didn’t last nearly long enough.

“That was a better farewell than mine,” Elizabeth admitted, when they finally pulled apart.

Susan laughed a little. “Yes, I thought so, too.” 

The sun was sinking in earnest, now, and it was growing dark. Susan stepped away, still facing Elizabeth. She didn’t turn around until she reached the gangplank.

“Keep a weather eye on the horizon,” Elizabeth called after her.

Susan smiled.


End file.
